Puddle Jumping

Pumpkin Patch

RJ & his kindergarten class

Telling Time

8:32
  RJ: Daddy, what's eight three two?
  Hubs: Eight thirty-two.

8:33
  RJ: Daddy, what's eight three three?
  Hubs: Eight thirty-three.

8:34
  RJ: Daddy, what's eight three four?
  Hubs: Eight thirty-four.

8:35
  RJ: Daddy, what's eight three five?
  Hubs: If you had to guess, what would you say?
  RJ: Ummm...
  Eli: Eight thirty-five!

Two Years Old

Happy Birthday, Blondie!

Baptized into Christ

Eli, Daddy, Momma, RJ, Opa, Uncle A w/JoJo, Auntie K

Opa, Nana, Daddy, Momma w/JoJo, Grandma, Grandpa

JoJo with her sponsors, Uncle A & Auntie K

w/Big Brothers Eli & RJ, all dressed up for Easter

Three Under Three

Discharged from the hospital 26 hours after birth, we came home to sleeping boys and managed a fairly uneventful first night as a family of five. Our second night, however, involved toddler puke from the eldest, attributed to over-stimulus on his first day brothering two. Coupled with the now-middle-child's increased need for physical attention, it's not surprising that we're all a bit sleepy around here. We're taking these days slowly, treasuring our time with tiny people. They won't be lap-size for long, but for the next five weeks we'll have three under three, and I don't want to miss a moment.

Big Brothers

In the Quiet

One toddler breathing deeply in his bed an arm's length away,

another snuggled to my chest as he settles down to sleep,

and their sister stirring inside me, anxious to join them.

My hands may be full, but so is my heart.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Home

His first car ride, a waving brother, welcoming signs on the door - LittleE's day has been full of excitement already, and now we're home, together again as a family. RJ has decided that he likes this tiny person who has invaded his family, and is glad to have Momma & Daddy home with him again - three days with Grandma & Aunt Boo (and Grandpa) was fun, but he was more than ready to have us back. So we settle in, practicing our balance of two boys while we still have helping hands nearby. Twice the diapers, twice the feedings, twice the loves. My heart, which now resides in two little bodies outside my own, overflows.

The Birth of a Brother

Having arrived at the BirthCare Center for a 7am induction, we went over the birth plan with our doula, MissJ, one last time as the nurse started my IV. Four attempts and a sore arm later, I was hooked up to 500cc of fluid - two veins had blown before the nurse changed over to a smaller catheter and was able to finally get a working connection. She was trying to make things as comfortable as possible for me, but wanted to try again for the larger needle once I was re-hydrated; I was in no mood for more sticks and ready to get things going.

By 8:45am, I was adequately hydrated and able to be unhooked from the fluid lines. My doctor arrived for the induction, and when informed about the trouble we had getting an IV started joked that we would have had an easier time if I had heroin track marks for them to follow. He asked the nurse for his 'fresh stick from the tree out back' with which to break my water - his sense of humor put the room at ease.

Hoping to help speed things along, we went for a walk around the building. But as had been the case for the last few weeks, as long as I was up and moving my contractions were light and easy. Back in the room, I decided to rest in a chair for a few minutes, and before I knew it I was having some pretty strong contractions.

This can't be the real thing yet, we're just getting started. Wait it out, it's only going to get worse.

I didn't last very long sitting by myself - soon I was asking that Husby be nearer, holding me and helping me breathe through each contraction. We had talked about using the bath tub to help relax when things got tough, and before we hit 10 o'clock I was ready to get in. I let go of Husby just long enough for him to get into his trunks (in case he needed to get into the water with me), and settled into the warm tub. With the hand-held shower head pointed at my belly I was able to work through contractions fairly effectively.

Down the hall, another laboring mother coded, and our nurse was pulled to help bring her back. She returned a little shaken, and asked me to re-consider the larger IV catheter 'just in case', since the small one I had wouldn't allow quick administration of drugs should it become necessary. For her sake, I decided to give it another try since my veins should be more cooperative after the fluid I was administered. A young anesthesiologist was sent to do the sticking, since they were supposed to be better at finding good veins quickly.

Just hold on, work through this one contraction and she'll be done. You can do this.

Two failed sticks later, she was annoyed with my being in the tub since it made things harder on her. Contraction after contraction kept me from being able to communicate.

Make her stop! Someone make her stop and get her out of here!

As I finally caught a break from contractions, MissJ reminded me that I could tell her to stop anytime. "No more" was all I could utter as I pulled my arm away from her.

"Are you ready for your epidural now?" Her snotty voice made me want to scream, but my energy was needed elsewhere.

"No. Get out."

I was starting to shiver in the tub, so we decided to get a seat for me to sit up on and get more of my body under the shower. Half way out of the tub another contraction hit me and I landed harder than intended on the seat; it flipped sideways and fell into the tub, taking me with it. I didn't have the will to try again, so a warm blanket was brought in to put over me in the water; Husby and MissJ poured and sprayed water over me and on my belly to keep me from freezing and help me relax.

After about a hour and a half, the intensity of the contractions was really starting to effect my thoughts.

I can't take this if it's just going to get worse.

I heard myself asking for drugs.

Wait! That's not what I want! Don't give me drugs! I can do this!

Husby could see the panic in my eyes, and asked me if I wanted to be checked (we had agreed ahead of time that we would take this first, smaller step before hooking up to any pain meds).

Yes! That's what I mean! I don't want drugs, I just want to know where I am!

To be checked, I had to be in the bed - which meant I had to get out of the tub. Towels and blankets were readied to dry me off and keep me warm, and we waited until a contraction was over to start moving. No sooner did my feet hit the floor than a huge contraction hit, and I went limp. With MissJ in front of me and Husby behind they managed to keep me from hitting the floor until I could support myself again and make my way to the bed.

I needed to lay on my back in the bed, but only made it up onto my hands and knees before another contraction hit. The nurse tried anyway, and thought I was about at 7cm, but asked me to try to roll over so she could be sure. A couple more contractions passed before I could move, but once I was settled she confirmed that I was already almost at 8cm.

That can't be right. We haven't been doing this long enough.

My brain knew that we were already in Transition, the hardest but shortest part of labor, just before the pushing stage. But my mind was reeling with the intensity of the contractions, and I again heard myself asking for something to take the edge off. MissJ was ready with the suggestion of Stadol, which wouldn't make the contractions themselves less intense but would give me more of a break in between to catch my breath and relax - it was the one thing I had considered beforehand, and was prepared to accept if needed given it's minimal effects on the baby. Since I was already so far along (and just wouldn't admit it to myself), my doctor would only approve a quarter of the usual dose. Administered during a contraction to further lessen it's effect on the baby, I felt it almost immediately - as long as I kept my eyes open I was alert, but as soon as I let them close I started to doze when I wasn't contracting. Thanks to the Stadol, I was allowed about a half an hour of 'rest' before the real work began.

The contractions started coming three and four at a time, and I was having to really work to get through each one. To cope with the intensity, I had been breathing low and started vocalizing with my exhales. As the intensity rose, and my breaks shortened (the Stadol was wearing off), my vocalizations began to get higher and tighter. Reminding me to focus low and slow my breathing, MissJ could see that we needed a change and suggested using a squat bar.

Once I was upright, Baby flipped himself around to face upwards, causing intense back labor. MissJ moved around behind me to help support and put counter pressure where I was hurting. Husby moved in front of me to help hold me up, and my eyes locked on his just as one of my toughest contractions hit. My vocalizations were high and tight as my body fought against me.

Don't freak out. If you freak out, he'll freak out, and we need him to not freak out.

His calm voice brought me back: "You can do this. I'm right here. You're doing so well."

My legs no longer able to support me, I laid back on MissJ, who's knee happened to land just at the point in my back that needed counter pressure. I had planned to rest for only a moment but ended up staying there for quite a few contractions. A second nurse appeared and began preparing tables and instruments; I heard myself asking what she was doing, and was told that she was setting up for delivery.

She's got to be crazy. She has no idea that we just got here. We are so not ready to have this baby.

The idea of readying for the birth, along with the rising intensity of contractions, began to overwhelm me and I again asked to be checked. Our nurse was out of the room, so the second nurse stopped her setting up and came over to see how far I was. She measured me at about 8cm, essentially the same as I had been an hour before. I was disappointed to say the least.

We're not even progressing! What does she think she's doing setting up all that stuff? Now I have to stare at useless tables for hours!

When she returned, our nurse held a fetal monitor to my belly and detected decels in Baby's heart rate. She helped me move to lay on my left side to alleviate some stress on him - in an instant, my contractions changed. Up to this point, I was able to focus on being open and relaxed with each contraction. Now, when I tried to be open, my body started pushing on it's own. Since I knew I wasn't to 10cm yet, I tried to pull back and keep from pushing, but it only made things more intense. When a contraction ended, I tried to tell Husby and MissJ that I couldn't stop myself from pushing. I looked up to find my doctor walking in to check on us. He quickly slipped his gloves on to check me; he felt merely a rim, but said I could easily push past what was left, and that was all I needed to hear.

Here we go. Deep breaths. Holy cow, we're going to have a baby.

With the next contraction, I pushed with intent. Being able to feel what I was doing, I could focus my energy where I knew it was effective. As I felt Baby descend, my doctor helped him to turn back into an easier position; I gripped Husby's hand a little tighter. His voice encouraged me that I was making progress, and with MissJ's help I repositioned myself for the birth.

Through two or three contractions I pushed continuously, and before I really knew what was happening, my son was born. LittleE joined us at 1:27pm, weighing 8lbs 13oz and measuring 20 inches long. Placed immediately on my chest, he looked up at us, his parents, for the first time, and my heart swelled.

Impending Birth

It's 4:45 on Friday morning, and I can't sleep because the child in my belly will very soon be out. Grandma snores in the living room, ready to take over Toddler duty as Husby and I venture off to the hospital's birthing center. We had planned to go into labor naturally, on our own, but lately my blood pressure, protein, and sugar numbers have been concerning, and my doctor has scheduled us for an induction this morning for our safety. Technically, today is our 39th week & 4th day of this pregnancy (although if you count by my dates instead of the ultrasound, we're really at 41 weeks & 5 days), making it reasonable to ask Baby Boy to leave his current residence and enter the world with the rest of us. Nervously excited, I sit here typing in the dark while Husby catches a few more minutes of sleep. In just a few more hours, I'll be able to sit back and marvel as my husband holds his second son for the first time.

24 weeks

Since we're moving durring the time I'd usually have our 24 week check-up, my doctor wanted to see us a few days early. Baby boy is growing right on schedule, with a heart rate in the 150s. They're readying a copy of my records for me to take with us, making it easier for my new doctor to be up-to-date.

Baby Wearing

The more I research what's best for my children, the more I'm finding that the 'old' way of doing things is the way I like best. 100 years ago, we didn't have playpens and bouncy chairs; instead, women strapped their babies to themselves so they could continue working while caring for the child. Today, there are many who look at women who 'wear' their babies as some kind of hippy who doesn't want to conform to 'normal' motherhood. But what good reason can you give me for leaving my child while I get other things done?

When RJ was small, I had a sling to carry him in. With him snuggled close, I could wash and fold the laundry, start dinner, and write a blog - with both hands free! He loved being near me, and even slept most of the time he spent in the sling. Unfortunately, I ordered a size too big, and once I lost my pregnancy weight, it became too loose for him to sit in it comfortably. Since he was getting to be a heavier, more mobile child, I didn't bother to order a smaller one - we just adjusted our routine, and he was able to play independently while I worked.

This time, instead of a sling, I'm looking forward to wearing my child in a wrap. After some research (that I should have done before RJ), I found a simple tutorial here on how to make my own. Rather than spend upwards of $30, I can get all the fabric I need for about $10 and have a baby carrier tailored to our needs. This way, Baby can be near me at all times, and I'll still have a hand or two available to catch RJ. Plus, there are tons of YouTube videos with instructions on different ways to wear Baby depending on his age and our needs - I can even nurse him in it, which just might come in handy when the toddler doesn't want to sit still while Baby eats. I've yet to find a flaw with this plan, and as such have sewn a wrap for myself and one for my sister and her little girl. Now I just have to wait 4.5 more months to use it.

20 Weeks

Momma's Belly - 20 weeks

Halfway through this pregnancy, today was our second ultrasound. Baby is big enough now that details are identifiable - including those of the gender variety. After an hour of examining all of Baby's other parts, the technician invited Husby and RJ in for the big reveal: 

we're having a baby brother!

Baby Boy - 20 weeks
(Not his best angle, but proof that there's a baby in there!)

We're all so very excited to add another little boy to our family - the men especially. I will admit that my mommy instincts told me this baby was going to be a girl, but bring on the testosterone. I have enough female emotions for this family, and boys are what I know. It looks like you won't be seeing any pink in our home anytime soon.

Sixteen Weeks

Momma's Belly
16 weeks

The belly, as seen from Daddy's view

Kicks & Wiggles

The baby books say to expect to start feeling movements at about 18 weeks, but here at the 15 week mark this child is certainly making their presence known. Daddy has yet to be able to feel anything from the outside, but Momma is enjoying the flutters and flips. And while this child's gender [and name] remain unknown, s/he is well loved by us all.

Surprise!

Remember when I got sick last month, and had that fantastic run-in with government healthcare? The doctor asked me all sorts of questions, including ones about my womanly-ness, and was concerned that I might have reason to be careful about the medications I could take. She sent me down to the lab for a blood test, and I shrugged it off thinking there it would surely come back negative. That's when God giggled at me. The call came back that it turned up positive - we were in fact expecting our second child. And not just barely, either. We were estimated to be 8 weeks along already, and encouraged to schedule an appointment with the OB clinic as soon as possible.

We were ecstatic - Husby especially! He picked me up and swung me around the living room (safely, of course - we did have another tiny life to think about after all), thanking the Lord for this new blessing. We had almost no idea this child existed: a few weeks earlier, I had suspected, but after six negative home tests, we tucked the idea away in the back of our minds and waited.

Today was our first ultrasound, confirming what we already knew: that a new life was growing strong within me. Estimated at 13 weeks (based only on dates), the sonogram measured the baby at 11 weeks, giving us a due date of September 12th. It's too early to tell the gender (we'll have that ultrasound in about 9 more weeks), but we don't care. This little one has already been welcomed into our family.

Baby's First Photo

Momma's Belly - 11 weeks, 1 days